


How to Incite an Elvhen Rebellion: A Beginner's Guide

by Pyria



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bookstore AU, F/M, Modern AU, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 20:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15104291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyria/pseuds/Pyria
Summary: Pyria Lavellan was a spy, pledged to Dirthamen, her life almost had a singular purpose. But when Keeper Deshanna sends her to work with Briala under the pretense of a bridge program, she is beyond her usual line of work. Endless errands keep her running around nearly all of Orlais. She is close to returning to her clan empty handed when she meets Solas, the unusually judgemental owner of a bookshop. She hates his bald head and snide comments, but seems to always find a reason to pop her head into his shop. Solas fears that Pyria is catching onto him, and would like this specific dalish elf to just leave him alone.





	How to Incite an Elvhen Rebellion: A Beginner's Guide

Pyria stomped out of the government building deemed the House of Heralds. She wasn't sure whether to be mad at Briala or all of Orlais. If she weren't praying for the rain to end as well, she might have even cursed her Keeper. But, throwing a tantrum in the foyer of a large government building in Orlais where people were already wary of elves, let alone Dalish ones might not have been the best course of action. So she allowed herself only to silently fume. Being the assistant to an ambassador could only save her from so many suspicious looks. She wanted to bare her teeth at the shemlen who often glanced her way. She had become somewhat of a constant figure in the foyer; constantly stomping her way through, off to fetch something else that Briala couldn't bring herself to acquire. Tea, forms, shoes, masks, people, the list had only grown longer. Now it seemed Briala couldn’t even complete her own reference shopping. 

She knew what Briala was looking for. These books she had known all her life. But the most recent ones had skewed slightly off their normal subjects. Where she had once been trying to sift through case law and statutes, she had now shifted to historical accounts. Most of them with little credibility. It crossed Pyria's mind that Briala might have been looking for a historical basis for the city elves to claim land. But that would require at least a minimal cooperation with the Dalish, and she was sure Briala would not do that on her own. Nor would she be able to receive popular backing for that venture. Pyria knew the depths of Briala's groveling, and so tossed that theory to the wind as she hopped onto her bicycle.

Briefly, Pyria questioned why exactly Deshanna had chosen her to be her spy. Why not her sister Elrin? She was older, more experienced, and would have felt little remorse for leaving the clan. Elrin had always jumped at the first opportunity to leave the camp and trade with the shemlen. She cursed under her breath at that, a childhood grievance never aired. Elrin would have been much more relaxed in this setting. She might have even made friends with Briala, though it would have been in vain. She begrudgingly suspected why she had been chosen by Deshanna. But could never confirm it because it was not her place to question her Keeper's decisions, as brash and undeveloped as they might seem. She was her clan's first. As she had been raised to be. Magic came more naturally to her than even Deshanna, and she wasn't horrible at hiding it. Deshanna had been teaching her how to bend truth from the day she received her vallaslin. Dirthamen had been an easy choice, and Deshanna had been her fiercest supporter in choosing him. 

Pyria's sole reason for being here was not only to influence Briala's course of action, but to instill herself into her circle of trust. The woman commanded a certain fascination among the Dalish. But also a level of disdain. She seemed to only care for city elves like herself, and when questioned about whether she had dalish loyalties she evaded a direct response. That was where Deshanna had intended for Pyria to come in. She would be able to make it seem as if Briala cared for the Dalish in front of the media, forcing Briala into a confrontation with Orlais and their treatment of the Dalish outside their city walls. Pyria could only hope that Deshanna’s trust in Briala’s fear of coming off city-centered would sway her into action against the empress Celene. She would only be loyal to her clan. And no one else. She doubted she would have a hard time keeping the Orlesians at an arm's length. They weren't quite as incredible as they seemed to believe they were.

She had however grown to respect Briala. The woman had, for all her life attempted to do the same thing that Pyria was doing now. She worked with lies, half truths and blackmail to provide for who she considered to be her people. Though they were flat ears, Pyria could not deny the need for their treatment among the cities to be improved as well. She pitied many of them. Relinquished to a life of secondary citizenship. They might have been more stationary than her clan, but she couldn't quite believe that any of them could have felt at home in the cramped walls of the alienages they called homes. Her and Briala could agree on that at least. Briala was not a bad person. Foolish? Yes. Cowardly? Maybe. She might have once been the perfect addition to a Dalish clan.

 

It was difficult for Pyria to see through the immense amount of rain clouding her vision. But Gods if she wouldn't make it to this bookstore. Ambassador Briala would have her head on a pike in a moment's notice. The woman's 'clandestine' set of spies were far too obvious to dalish sensibilities. She was certain every person in Orlais knew at least one of her spies, and feared them. The elves she kept in her employ were nothing short of terrifying. They were nothing like the other city elves she had come to encounter. For a moment she scoffed, and rain water fell directly into her mouth, allowing it to catch in her throat. Fighting off a coughing fit she parked her bike in front of the bookstore. Parked would be strong word she thought, it was more haphazardly thrown against the store window as she dashed inside, nearly out of breath from not only her choking but her furious pedaling. 

She noticed suddenly how quiet the bookstore had been before her hasty entrance. A few more than several pairs of eyes peered to look at her. She surveyed the room then, a blush coming to her cheeks despite the defiant stares she gave out. A few shemlens, engrossed in their coffee and what seemed to be reference books, and an elf, who less stared than glared. A flat ear nonetheless. She attempted to calm her breathing then, the weight of the flat-ear's stare slowly weighing her down. She noticed that she was dripping water onto the various Antivan rugs layered on top of each other and 'tsked' under her breath. How tacky.

She spent about thirty minutes actively walking between two sets of shelves there, more than irritated at how difficult it was becoming to find the book Briala needed. She knew where it should be and yet it wasn’t there. She barely kept back an irritated but well deserved grunt as she turned back to the first shelf for possibly the fifteenth time. She didn't see a worker anywhere, no one re-shelving the books, and no one at what appeared to be a checkout counter. She wondered momentarily if this errand was Briala's idea of a joke. Had she sent her here on an impossible errand, simply waiting to try her patience? She rolled her eyes, deigning to act none the wiser to Briala's plans.

"Trouble finding something?"

She narrowed her eyes, she hadn't heard anyone approaching her, and when she turned around she was met with the bald flat ear. His hands were clasped behind his back, and she didn't fail to notice the manner in which he looked down on her. The slight incline of his brows indicated a sort of admonishing arrogance. She did not fail to notice how his eyes lingered on her vallaslin.

So he worked here and they were already off on the wrong foot. He was another city elf who didn't approve of the Dalish. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. But she needed this job and she would keep her opinions to herself on how city elves conducted themselves. Just this once.

"I'm looking for a political book, here is the title and author." She handed over the paper scribbled on with Briala's impeccable cursive. The flat ear squinted his eyes for a moment, and seemed to work something over in his head.

"I wouldn't have taken you for someone into politics."

His voice was slightly nasal, and somehow that only added on to her irritation. Did she look like she had come in here for a leisurely stroll, simply pedaling in the rain all the way to the other side of town to be judged by a flat ear? She bit her tongue. Keeper Deshanna would not approve of failure nor being sent back to her clan empty handed. She reminded herself once again why she was in this horrible place, working for such a horrible woman, speaking to such a horrible man. She blinked her eyes and took a deep breath.

"It's not for me. Can you point me in the right direction?" She managed to only raise her eyebrows a touch.

He stepped back, an unusually large gait matching his unusually large stature. His arm swept wide, gesturing one shelf over.

"You were almost there."

She ducked her head and squinted at the shelf. Did he imagine she knew what the book looked like? His hand popped out from behind her ghosting past her cheek.

"This one." He grabbed it, his hands encompassing nearly the entire spine, weathered in a familiar pattern. A mage then, she knew what city staffs did to Elvhen hands. She noted that they were not of the same craftsmanship as dalish staffs and smirked slightly as she followed him to the register. She paid with Briala's money and found her way out of the bookstore.

The rain still poured outside and she found no solace in stuffing the book under her shirt, determined to keep it from the elements. She would cast a quick spell to dry it out but Briala and her Keeper both had denied her the 'privilege' of practicing her magic in public. She would have to fumble with the suffocating shemlen raincoat she had spent a large portion of her gold on.

Briala had better have some damn good use for a political treatise on Arlathan, and she had better not send her back to that book store.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! A wonderful huge thank you especially to my heart Jordain for looking over this with me as I rewrote 5,000 times. I have a few chapters pre-written and hope to update fairly regularly, about once a week.


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